You're Not Sleeping, You're Just Trying To
by Lily Willowswood
Summary: OneShot. Ron and Hermione, 7th year, finally exchange their feelings for one another. Lots of fluff. I love fluff. R&R please.


A/N: Well due to the fact that I got soooo many reviews from all of you asking me to write more, I decided, that since I couldn't add any more to my last story, I would write a nice fluffy one-shot for y'all. I thank everyone for support, and for making me laugh and cry and completely re-assess my thinking on this matter. Please keep in mind, I wrote this in about 20 minutes.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except the main storyline, obviously. All original.

Hermione Granger was walking to the library, her safe haven at Hogwarts, when she noticed a tall redhead leaning against one of the stone walls in the corridor, trying to look inconspicuous. He was clearly depressed, and she couldn't help but wonder why. They'd been friends for a long time, but they'd had a row about something that frankly, she could not remember at all. It had been about two weeks since they said a single word to each other. And their last words were said in anger. It was her fear that she'd never speak to him again, and now in this tumultuous time, what with the war and protecting Harry, they sure needed someone. Why couldn't that someone be each other?

She strode over to him, her heart racing and her mind reeling thinking of things to say. She reached her destination and shuffled her feet nervously, then cleared her throat and began.

"Ron?" He looked up at her, and his blue eyes held such sadness and regret, she almost walked away, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. But she stood her ground.

"Yeah?"

"Are you all right?"

He paused a bit before answering, "Yeah. O' course."

"Are you sure, because you look—You look, sad."

"Well, I guess I kind of am 'sad'," he retorted angrily.

"You know? I try to make things okay between us and this is what I get? I can't believe you!" She turned, but he grabbed her arm.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I'm just in a crap mood because I haven't slept much recently."

"And I have?"

"How am I supposed to know how much sleep you get?"

"You're not. I'm sorry. I've just had so much on my mind with Harry and everything. I've got no one to share it with. Harry's all wrapped up in fighting off Voldemort in his mind and training to fight him in the war. He still turns to both of us, and I think we should be able to turn to someone too. And since we've—well I've got no one else, I decided to make amends with you and offer to be your friend and listen."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. And you're right. I've not got anyone else either. The cleverest witch strikes again," he said with a slight, nervous smile. He held out his hand in a sort of truce. She took it, and shook it, and like that their friendship was patched up. At least for the time being.

They began walking down the corridor, and suddenly Hermione forgot about the library. She no longer felt as though it was the only place on campus she felt safe. She realized that she felt perfectly safe right here. Standing next to one of her oldest friends walking down the corridors just thinking. She felt like this was where she belonged. Next to him.

"So do you want to tell me why you were looking so particularly melancholy back there?" Hermione asked earnestly.

"I don't know."

"You might feel better if you talk to someone about it. And if you remember, I'm here to listen."

"Yeah, well. Okay. But can we maybe go sit somewhere?"

"Sure."

…………………….

They went into the great hall which, at this time in the day, was completely deserted. They sat down at the Gryffindor table, even though it really made no difference which table they sat at. Ron took a deep, shaky breath, and cracked his knuckles, making Hermione cringe.

"Okay, so I've been having nightmares."

"What kind of nightmares?"

"Bad ones. Every night."

"Well, let's see if maybe we can figure it out." Hermione suggested. Ron took another breath, and started.

"Well, there's this big stone tower, and it's surrounded by this desert-forest-like area. There are like these massive thorny plants around it, and I can scarcely get through them. Once I finally reach the tower, I climb steps and reach the top. But once at the top, there's this row of cells. Most of them are empty. All except the one at the end of the corridor." He gulped, tugged at his collar, then proceeded. "And you're in there Herm. You. And I can't get you out. I can't reach you. I keep running toward the door, and you're screaming at me through the bars to help you, but I physically can't. It's like there's this wall between us, and I can't break through it or get over it."

Hermione looked at him in a questioning way. She couldn't quite grasp what it meant either. Ron opened his mouth to continue.

"And I never get there Hermione. Every bloody night I try. And I can't do it. And I'm scared to death. I wake up and I'm sweating and I can't breathe. I can feel this urgency. Like I need to get you out of there or you'll be lost forever. And—and all I know is I can't lose you. Ever."

"Oh Ron," Hermione said, at a loss for words. "I don't know what this could mean."

"I have some idea." He replied.

"Yes?" She coaxed, "What is it?"

"I already know I can't lose you. I've known it for a long time. You mean more to me than you think Hermione Granger."

"I—I do?"

"Of course you do. Don't you see? And you're the smartest in your year? My goodness, what is the faculty on?"

"Ron!"

"Sorry." He coughed. "I'm—I think, that I am in love with you Hermione."

Her eyes became wide, and she had this shocked look on her face.

"You're serious?"

"Yeah, I'm bloody serious Hermione." His ears turned red, and he was beginning to sweat, and fidget about.

"Ron. Look at me." He did. "Calm down please so I can say something." She took his sweaty, shaky hands in hers. "I think I'm in love with you too Ron Weasley."

"Wha—you?" He managed to stutter out.

"Yes. For quite a long time actually."

"Me too."

She wouldn't let go of his hands, and they sat there facing each other, not saying anything else. Then slowly, Ron unclasped his hands from hers and allowed them to cup each side of her face. He drew her toward him gently, and when their lips met, it was as if the entire world was peaceful, that they were lost in their own world. One in which there were no evil Lords out to kill their best friend or constant fights or dementors or all of reality's evils. There was just them, in the great hall, with the stars beginning to show up in the enchanted ceiling. Her arms looped around his waist and he buried his hands in her bushy hair and she clasped him to her, as if she were the one with nightmares. As if she thought he'd be the one lost. They continued their passionate exchange when students began filing into the room for supper. Their mouths, the very same mouths that had offered many foul words to one another were now united in love instead of hate. Passion instead of annoyance.

All through the meal they sat there. They had stopped kissing, of course, because it was suppertime, for one. And people in love still need to breathe and /or eat. Though they were no longer attached at the mouth, they held hands under the table, and would thereafter be attached by their souls.

Fin

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. I enjoyed writing it. And yeah it took me a very short time, so be kind while reviewing and please remember that fact. And also that I love you all.


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